Dear Louise
by Orgullo Christiano
Summary: One shot. Hawkeye and the rest of the unit work toward fixing a twofaced letter from Frank Burns to his wife. While he tears through tents and his own hypochondria in his futile search, the rest of the camp exercises their means of revenge on the major ev


"Attention, all personnel, wounded arriving in the compound. All medical personnel are instructed to change into their whites."

"Frank, what are you writing? And why aren't you already getting ready for the wounded?" said Hawkeye.

"Oh, cann the blabbing Pierce, this is important too. Not like those filthy magazines you spend all your heathen time drooling over."

"Pierce?"

Frank looked all around his quarters and found both Hawkeye and Trapper gone.

"I really need to get some R&R"

In the O.R., Frank observed that Hawkeye and Trapper were too busy with patients in crisis, while he had an appendectomy only. He looked into his patient's abdomen and gripped his scalpel tighter in his hands. The scalpel slipped and smacked the floor.

"Easy Frank, remember to relax," soothed Margaret.

"Yes Margaret, why don't you kiss him into relaxation? On second thought, we don't want poor Frank flopping over into comatose," waxed Pierce.

Frank began to cut into the wound, "Oh, all this unpatriotic swill is driving me off the edge here."

"Don't get our hopes up, Frank," said Trapper.

"Colonel, did you-…" complained Frank.

"Yes I did, but I don't care. Listen Burns, the only thing that ever comes out of your mouth is complaints, well I think it's time you stopped turning to your commander for help your never going to get." Henry turned to his nurse, "Clamp."

"Clamp."

"Learn to fight back and not be such a push over, Burns." Henry turned down to his patient and expanded the wound with his fingers.

A stream of blood burst onto Hawkeye's whites and Hawkeye screamed: "Suction nurse, I can't see what I just cut."

"Having trouble are we?" mocked Frank.

"Listen Burns, if you try to use that mouth of yours again to smart talk me in front of a bleeding person, who can't live without my hands for now, my hands and I will find a new way to modify your jaw."

"Oh, sure, sack freedom of speech," mumbled Frank.

Trapper jumped in, "Frank, if what your doing is speech, then how come your little cheerleader walked out on you?"

Major Houlihan was over at Henry Blake's table, and Frank became red with embarrassment.

Chapter 2 The Letter

Frank sat down at his little desk in the Swamp, and began to write on the notepad in front of him:

**Dear Louise,**

**I wish you were here. It gets so lonely up here, Sweetness. The other doctors here just don't understand my morals, so they mock me plenty. I know if you were here, darling, you would give them a good thrashing, not that you're the violent type, honey. This is plain madness, Sugar, and there is no control. The surgeons here are infantile and boorish; one reads dirty magazines and the other is a bit nicer, but still a bit callous. I-**

"What is it?" asked Burns, turning away from his letter to Corporal Klinger.

"You now, I was listening in O.R., and you know what I realized? You were right, Major."

"Of course I was…About what?"

"It's about having Colonel Blake always taking Hawkeye and Trapper's side, and how Hawkeye scorns you whenever you say something intellectual. It makes me wonder Major Houlihan's childish act; moving from your side, which, in turn, leads me to a rather interesting idea…"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Sir, it's about the Major, she is not available is she?"

"What? You dirty rat, get out of my tent before I rip that dress off with my bare hands! Anyway, Margaret likes real men, not the kind that wears dresses."

"Ah, found out hard way, did you Major?" said Klinger as he walked out the door.

So sorry sweedums, small interruption from a certain transvestite corporal. I don't think I can go on, except for the fact that I have you to love and be loved. But I think it is plainly obvious by this letter.

"Oh, what is it, Pierce?"

"It's your turn in post-op. Actually, it's been your turn for a half-hour. But it's OK Frank, we've trained the nurses and medical staff to manage until your tardiness comes to an end, so they are used to it."

"Well, I'm too tired to argue, how many patients do I have"

"I don't know how many patients "you" have, but there are five wounded soldiers in need of a doctor, try to make sure there are five patients when you leave, and also I told them not to expect real medical attention from a doctor, until that same time."

"Fine. Oh, by the way, I don't want your heathen self around my desk."

"What's on it, Frank?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? But what ever it isn't, it's definitely not a letter or anything."

The door behind Frank slammed shut as he took himself to Post-op.

Hawkeye half-walked, half-dragged himself over to the desk. He looked down and saw the notepad. He picked it up and smiled devilishly. He chuckled at an idea that came to him.

Chapter 3 Hawkeye's turn

Hawkeye picked up Frank's pen and sat down on his desk. He chuckled to himself and began to write:

**As I was saying honey, the war shall go on, but I will be fine, because I will be here, and you will be there, where you can't see us. Oh Dear, by "Us" I meant the war and the people and those injured persons and maybe some other women. Wait a minute, never mind, there is only one, only one that I am definitely not cheating with. But don't get the idea that I am fooling around with other women. In fact, forget that I said this entire paragraph.**

**Geez, twenty-five hours a day with all that malpractice. You could only be a bad doctor for so long, you know. You know, one of my patients yesterday told me, "You're a competent doctor until you try to heal people" and "Your best patients must really work there butt off trying to tell people about you, it probably takes them at least an hour to get the word out, you know, because they need a little help getting out of their grave" and let's not forget, "How long has your patients mortality rate been in the negatives?"**

**Sometimes it gets so cold up here. I wish I had your bony arms to be wrapped around. I-**

"Listen Frank," started Trapper from the post-op ward, "it looks you need somebody to be watching you while your trying to do any doctoring."

"I, I,…, it was an accident."

"Don't start blaming your parents,"

They stormed into the tent and Hawkeye sat up, "What happened?"

"Ferret Face just put Private Anderson back into a coma,"

"I said I was sorry."

"Oh yeah, was that before or after you injected him with morphine? Because if it was after, I doubt he was able to hear you," said Trapper.

Hawkeye sat up and rested his hand on Frank's shoulder, "Frank did you know that the country to which I so proudly serve below, just adores surgeons who turn patients back into casualties. Here, I'll go with you back to post-op." They exited the swamp and Trapper was left alone in the tent. He walked over to Frank's desk and began to search through his things.

Chapter 4 the letter goes on…

Henry Blake adjusted his fishing hat, slurped a shot of Brandy, and let out a below of laughter, "McIntyre, this is hilarious!"

"I know, just think about Louise's reaction from when she gets this letter from Frank."

"Yeah, but I don't think Frank wrote this, it wouldn't make sense for him to talk about things like that."

"That's true, Henry, but remember that old saying, 'You shouldn't expect a snake to squeak like a mouse' and then compare that to our least favorite army Non Com Poop."

"Yeah, that's true. So you want some more Brandy?"

"Sure, but like I was thinking, do you want to write something or should I?"

"Oh, I'll help, but gee, I'd hate to get in trouble with anybody."

"It's cool. You know, I could already see Hawk's hand in this letter."

"Really, what about his foot?"

"Wow, that was very bad, it's a good thing there was only one of us here to hear that."

Trapper began to write:

**I don't necessarily think your arms are bony, they just lack any meat or muscle or anything. But you can trust me, I am a doctor. They have my diploma pinned up in the latrine and everything. But don't worry, the thickness of your legs and thighs average out with your emaciated arms. Or have I said too much? I know, I, myself, am getting very excited already!**

"Oh dear," said Father John Patrick Francis Mulcahy, "you seem to be very troubled indeed."

"Oh yes," said Corporal Sterner, "I…deal in the black market. I steal. I gamble. I have been ignoring my religious duties, but I don't think I deserve any happiness."

"Well if I were you, I would leave and return when you have raised your self esteem. Just remember, your life is, and will always be preserved through the sanctity of your faith and belief of The One Who Knows All. I will pray that you reflect on this and come back with a clear conscience." Father Mulcahy crossed the corporal and sent him away.

"Attention, attention, incoming wounded. Take yourself to the loading dock and grab yourself an injured person," said the PA suddenly.

Father Mulcahy crossed himself and ran out the door. He took two, maybe three steps and fell on the dirt below him.

"Sorry father, I can't seem to get up."

"Or are you listening to private confessions, Major Burns?"

"No Father, it's just I'm looking for something. And it could be anywhere. Plus, I was hearing something about the Black Market."

"Listen Major, I would scold you if I had time, but right now we have bleeding people to tend to."

Quickly the casualties were brought to triage. There Corporal Radar O' Reilly waited with the pre-op doors open.

"Does it look bad Hawk?"

"Nah, I've seen worse after they were operated on by Frank."

"Is he gonna live Trap?"

"I don't know, I gotta get him inside fast."

Major Burns came right behind him. "Major, it looks pretty bad, but you're going to pull him through right?"

"Oh, piss off, half-pint!"

"I understand, Major. Sometimes it's hard for jerk faces like you to talk even at all."

"Oh, I have no trouble talking!" retorted Burns as he rammed into the opening door in front of him.

"Ow!"

"See you later Major Piss-Pint," said Radar, as he escaped behind the corner.

"Frank, you look like you could use a little help there," retorted Pierce.

"Not at all, in fact, I consider my self most eligible to operate among all you heathens."

"Easy Frank, the nurses don't like dumb-nuts who spout their mouth off whenever they want." Said Blake.

"Has anyone seen a letter?"

The whole operating room broke out in laughter.

"What?"

Chapter 5 The finishing touch

In the mess tent, after the O.R. session, Major Houlihan was poking her meatballs with a broken fork when she saw a protruding white paper that was folded and sticking out of Hawkeye's back pocket. She approached Hawkeye from behind. He threw down his fork, "Anyone who could eat this stuff deserves a purple heart, the rest of us should be granted Medal of Honors for being brave enough to smell this garba- Oh Margaret, hey there. Never thought my time with you would be now, but okay…"

"Hardly captain, my coming to you only has to do with Frank's letter."

"What about it?"

"Well, I want you to give it to him."

"Fine major, I'll give it to you and you could give it to him. But promise me you'll read it first, okay?"

"Whatever…just hand it over."

"Here you go, Major"

Margaret took the letter and began to walk out of the mess tent, when the letter in her hand began to unfold, and her eyes dropped down and she began to skim over the lines. And she made it to the swamp door when she finished the letter, turned around, and began to twirl the pen in her pocket.

**And why wouldn't I be excited? I have the skinniest woman on the west coast...(or do we live on the east coast?) While I have been gone, lately I have developed VD. I think it has happened because of all the action I have been dreaming of( don't worry your in some of it.) Yesterday, I got arrested for selling in the black-market. I was selling something very valuable to the Chinese- Myself. Yeah, I am just so worked up with the United States army! So the next time I start talking about how great army life is, and that I'm being faithful, you know I'm lyingthrough my teeth!**

**Love your honey,**

**Frank (ferret face)**

The next week, Frank stubbed his toe reading the new letter from his wife. He tumbled on the floor and screamed in pain. He was the only wounded the whole day, so Hawkeye treated him.

"Can you believe this letter from my wife? For no reason she seems to be ticked at me. What did I do wrong?"

"Frank, I wish I would get a quarter for every dumb question you asked me…because I would be the richest draftee in the world."


End file.
